Previously, under the control of the Zhenbei Army, they relied on raising sheep at the foot of the ridge and growing millet on the ridge. They also helped the garrison with their work to earn a few coins to make a living.
With the guards present, the barbarian tribes dared not come to steal sheep or people.
Although life was simple, as exiled criminals, they managed to get by.
Four years ago, however, the Xuanwei Army was stationed here.
Those soldiers complained about how hard life was here and began to take pleasure in tormenting the military households.
The women of military households were their playthings, and the men were their slaves; they could beat and scold them as they pleased.
If anyone dares to resist, just find an excuse to escape and behead them.
When the Di barbarians attacked earlier, these Xuanwei soldiers forced the soldiers to fight, and the soldiers themselves wanted to escape.
As a result, the military household opened the fort and let the Di barbarians in, and all the Xuanwei soldiers stationed there were beheaded.
This situation was probably unexpected by both Zhao Tinglei and Zhao Yanjiao.
He felt that even if the Xuanwei army was at its worst, it could hold out for three days.
Three days is enough time for rescue teams to arrive.
With attacks from both inside and outside, and encirclement from above and below, the Di barbarians driven over by the third brother will be captured.
This way, the strength of the Xuanwei Army and the Di tribe can be depleted at minimal cost.
However, he never expected it to end like this.
Such good fortune was probably unexpected even by these Di people themselves.
Even after repelling an attack by the Xuanwei army at Pingliang Fort, they still couldn't believe that they, who had been fleeing for their lives on the grasslands just two days ago, could so easily capture a Wuchao garrison.
There will be fire to roast meat, and women to play with; these are all gifts from the Wu Dynasty.
Along with joy came hatred, lingering fear, and anxiety.
They were fleeing for their lives, and hiding here was not a long-term solution. They had to find a way back to the grasslands to find their tribe and family.
It was a morning five days ago, and snowflakes were falling softly from the sky. On the winter pastures of Pingchang Prefecture, the cattle had not yet left the pen.
Smoke curled from the tent, milking women busily moved among the cattle, and children were busy picking up cow dung; everything seemed normal.
However, the tranquility was shattered when a group of ten cavalrymen, draped in white cloaks from head to toe, appeared on the gentle slope outside the camp.
Friction often occurs between different tribes on the grasslands for various reasons.
Large-scale conflicts do occur, so each tribe's encampment is very wary of anyone who appears around them.
Wolves on the grasslands are a threat to cattle and sheep, but the most terrifying threat to humans is other humans, especially strangers like those appearing now.
The hostility was written all over their faces.
The women screamed as they herded the cattle and sheep together, pulling the running children close to prevent them from being trampled by the frightened herd.
The men shouted as they found their horses, raised their scimitars and bows, and prepared to fight.
The sheepdogs barked frantically, startling the cattle into a chaotic stampede.
Pingchang tribe is a small tribe of about a hundred people. Excluding women, children and the elderly, there are only about thirty men who can ride horses.
The opposing force only has ten riders, so the Pingchang tribe has a high chance of winning.
Faced with the panic of the Pyeongchang troops, the unfamiliar White Cavalry did not take advantage of the chaos to attack.
Instead, led by a young man wearing turquoise earrings, they stood motionless atop the slope, waiting for the other side to finish its reorganization.
In just over ten breaths, a dozen horses emerged from the chaos; these were all soldiers from the Pingchang tribe.
Amidst shouts, they raced through the snow, their horses propelling them up the gentle slope to meet the enemy before they could get close.
The rapid hoofbeats sent dry grass flying, and the men of Pingchang shouted and cursed, their gleaming scimitars slashing through the air with a chilling clang.
The white knights' horses also moved, slowly starting to move.
Within a few breaths, they were within each other's arrow range.
The men of Pingchang were the first to fire their arrows. Although they were already within range, the arrows had little force and only made a few crisp clanging sounds when they hit the White Knight before falling to the ground.
Another breath passed, and the leading youth shouted, "Release the arrows!" Only then did the knights behind him draw their bows.
Ten men fired their arrows at the same time. With a dull thud, the bowstrings twanged, and ten arrows rained down, accurately striking the knights of the Pingchang tribe who were charging at the forefront.
In that instant, the strongest warrior of the Pingchang tribe was riddled with arrows, and his entire body was carried backward by the force of the rain of arrows, crashing heavily into the herd of horses that followed, causing chaos and disarray among the men and horses behind him.
The horse, having lost its master, neighed and galloped away, then looked back again.
Meanwhile, in the Pyeongchang tribe, before those who had fallen from their horses could even get up, the White Knights' swift horses had already caught up, and what awaited them was a scimitar slashing towards them.
These white knights moved in perfect unison, the ten of them appearing as one, and no one could stop them wherever they went.
Screams and cries erupted throughout the camp, blood splattered everywhere, and the wounded staggered and ran in all directions.
In just one round, the enemy only sent ten men, and the Pingchang unit was defeated.
Seven or eight corpses lay on the ground. In the chaos, the dozen or so uninjured men dared not fight any longer, spurred their horses and fled the camp, quickly disappearing into the vast grassland.
Just then, several more white knights emerged from behind the gentle slope and silently followed.
Without male protection, the elderly, women, and children of Pingchang gathered together, looking at the masked cavalrymen with terrified expressions.
One of the White Cavalrymen rode over: "Bring out your leader!"
From the crowd, an elderly man with a wrinkled face stepped forward, placed his hand on his chest, and bowed: "I am..."
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